Blackened skies
in morbid array
sickening fields
of lance and hay.
Lanturns that glisten
shine down from Great Black
"Midnight Crisis"
of a concern lack.
Bound by chains
of iron and steel
she weeps with a passion
only an outcast could feel.
Why was she abandoned?
Why cast aside?
She'd never sinned badly
and the lands rules she'd abide.
Though she had endevoured
and tried not to awaken,
it seemed as though her people
had left her forsaken.
She faced the Great Black
at the Lanturns in the sky.
"I hate you creator!"
she screamed as she cried.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.06 seconds at 5:12pm on Dec 26, 2024 via server WEBX1.